


Come Undone

by Ataraxetta



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Rough Sex, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataraxetta/pseuds/Ataraxetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all Eggsy's wanted, since the beginning, so greedy for all of Harry's attention on him all the time, where it fucking well belongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coloursflyaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/gifts).



> For the prompt:
> 
> _'Harry is not a good man, and after he has "died" in Kentucky, Eggsy finds out just how much - there are more recorded missions in Kingsman's archives than he ever thought, and he watches them all after getting access as Galahad. There is torture, assassination, everything Eggsy never thought Harry would be, but instead of being horrified, he's more than just turned on. Cue both a confrontation and violent sex with biting, bruising, and maybe even a hand across Eggsy's throat, choking him.'_
> 
> Gosh, this was a hard and wonderful prompt. I'm afraid I'm pretty far off the mark, but I hope it suits well enough that you enjoy!

**Come Undone**

The quiet after is always a little disconcerting. Where there were shouts and screams and crunching bone and gunfire, now it’s just the sound of their heavy breathing. There's a dozen bodies at their feet. One of them moans, mutters something unintelligible. Eggsy recognizes the voice as the one that had been filtering through his in-ear, laughing as Harry had screamed out in pain. It won't be long; he's bleeding out from a fist-sized bullet hole in his chest.

Eggsy shoots the rest of his fuck-ugly face off anyway.

"Gawain."

Harry's voice is hoarse, and he's still breathing hard. His hair's fallen out of its neat sculpt and a sweat-damp curl is flopped over his forehead. His hand is bleeding, so's his stomach and arm - big, shallow gashes that stain his shirt red. His wrists are raw from rope and his cheek is bruised and there's something wild and dangerous in his eyes as he looks at Eggsy like he's the only fixed point in the universe, something that knocks the breath out of Eggsy, holds him caught still like a fox in a trap.

"Eggsy," Harry says, softer.

Eggsy shivers. It's all he's wanted for months, more than a year, since the moment they met, so greedy for all of Harry's attention on him all the time, where it fucking well should be. His throat is dry, his skin feels tight and hot, his heart pounding with leftover fear, and Jesus Christ, but he's hard. Watching Harry fight has turned his crank since day one; fighting _with_ him - having Harry at his back, all that ruthless grace and speed threading seamlessly into Eggsy's gymnastic brute force, the only thing between death and each other - has Eggsy a half-notch from nutting right there in his sharp trousers.

He lets his eyes drop to Harry's crotch, sees the fucking obscene bulge of Harry's cock and sighs with longing, wets his lips. Harry makes a quiet, punched out sound and Eggsy's gaze flickers back up to his, hungry, _aching_.

“You all right?” Eggsy says.

“I’m fine,” Harry says, looking bewildered, a little awed. He says, “Eggsy,” and reaches for him. Eggsy goes, like he’s pulled on a string, catches Harry’s hand and holds on too tight, stumbles the last few steps, slipping in the blood on the floor.

“Harry,” he says, feeling helpless and overheated. He runs his hands carefully over Harry’s front, relieved not to feel any broken bones, only bruises and shallow cuts that make Harry hiss and grasp Eggsy’s hands to hold them still. Eggsy lets out a slow breath, feeling absurdly like he might cry, or laugh, or press up against Harry and hump his leg like a horny puppy while Harry holds his hand.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks. “I thought Bors and Percival – ”

“Fuck that,” Eggsy says flatly. Harry's eyebrows threaten to disappear into his hairline. Eggsy says, “You was being fucking tortured. They was hurting you. I could hear – they was gonna kill you. Arthur had no right sending anyone else. Fuck Bors and Percival. They don’t know what you - ”

“Gawain,” Harry cuts him short. “You were unprepared, outnumbered. You could have been killed.”

Eggsy glances at the bodies on the floor, arches an eyebrow. Cocky as shit, he says, “Not fucking likely."

Harry sighs, a little condescending. “Eggsy, overconfidence will - ”

“ _Harry_.” Eggsy’s voice breaks halfway through. He meets Harry’s eyes stubbornly, mutinous, feels the weight of the posh Kingsman suit and the sick dread of Harry’s potential disapproval like a boulder on his shoulders. He squares them up anyway. “They had no right sending anyone after you but me.”

Harry just looks at him for a long time, head cocked, studies Eggsy with a particular fascination that makes Eggsy’s cock twitch pointedly. Harry untangles their hands to put his fingers on Eggsy’s lip where it’s busted open and sore and applies pressure until Eggsy is tense and squirming, and then takes Eggsy’s mouth for the first time with an invasive, proprietary kiss, licks the soft achy sound that Eggsy can’t hold back right from between his lips, curls his fingers tightly into Eggsy’s hair to hold him still and kisses him so hot and filthy like the fucking world is gonna end if he doesn’t fuck his tongue into Eggsy’s mouth deep enough to taste his tonsils.

In their ears, Merlin says, “Gentlemen, might I suggest you remove your heads from each other’s arses long enough to make your exit? The authorities will be arriving shortly.”

Harry pulls back and makes an offended face and Eggsy sags against him, laughing hoarsely, dazed, and feels an idiotic smile stretch his sore mouth.

*

Harry’s a fucking beast in the sack. A vain, demanding, possessive, cock-hungry one. Within ten minutes of arriving at the safe house he’s got Eggsy stripped of his suit and sat on the squat little table by the front door, mouth kiss bruised and sore, dazed from a brutal blow job that lasted exactly twelve seconds before Eggsy blew his load spectacularly into Harry’s clutching throat, and Harry kneeling gracefully in front of him, gently tugging Eggsy’s boxer-briefs the rest of the way down his legs. Eggsy kicks them off and sags back against the wall.

“That was lovely,” Harry tells him, like Eggsy was doing him a favor letting Harry suck his brains out through his cock. Harry's still got his clothes on when he fits himself between Eggsy’s knees and looks him over. It’s hot, makes Eggsy dizzy, self-conscious in a good way.

“I like your nipples,” Harry tells him politely. Fucking what? Who the hell says something like that? Eggsy’s cock twitches in direct response and he looks down at it nonplussed. Fucking _what?_ Harry tilts his head, fitting his hand round Eggsy’s prick to rub at it gently, coaxing him to get hard before he’s really gone soft. “Are they sensitive?”

“I don’t know,” Eggsy says, and then squints at how stupid that sounds.

“You don’t know?” Harry says, raising an eyebrow. His mouth is all red and his hair is fucked up from Eggsy’s fingers. He says the words really slow like he’s trying to make them easy for Eggsy to understand. He pinches the inside of Eggsy’s thigh and Eggsy whimpers. “Haven’t you touched them before?”

There’s nothing left in Eggsy’s head. Bits of fluff and empty air. “I don’t know, maybe?” he says, and that sounds even worse. He covers his face with one of his hands, mortified and completely unable to stop himself from trying to fuck his hips up into thin air ‘cos Harry’s not touching his cock anymore. He has no leverage, so all it does is rub his balls against the table which feels so good he almost bites his tongue from the shock of it, and the good feeling seems to sizzle out all the way to his chest. He’s never really stopped to consider his fucking nipples before but suddenly they’re the only part of his body he can feel. He wants Harry to ask him again so he can answer correctly this time.

“Hm,” says Harry. Eggsy gasps when Harry’s thumbs rub neatly over them, and then shouts out like he’s bloody dying when Harry pinches them roughly. “Well, they seem fairly sensitive. Mystery solved.”

“What the fuck?” Eggsy mumbles. He feels his cock getting fat again, too fast. “What the fuck, what the fuck?“

Harry laughs, takes Eggsy’s wrist and prises his hand from his face, smiles and kisses him once, twice, little chaste touches of their lips that make Eggsy whine and chase after for more. Harry’s smile is sharp and genuine. He says, “Darling,” and manhandles Eggsy to the edge of the table so that Eggsy has to clench his knees on Harry’s flanks and scrabble for purchase on Harry’s back to keep from falling. Harry nuzzles into Eggsy’s armpit, licks the sweat and grumbles happily because he’s fucking disgusting, and then smears his mouth over Eggsy’s chest and pinches and sucks on Eggsy’s nipples until they’re so sore and sensitive that Eggsy’s sobbing.

“Harry, fuck, _Harry_ , I can’t – please – “

Harry moans like a whore when Eggsy pulls hard on his hair and looks up into Eggsy’s face, clutches Eggsy to him desperately, looking fucking wrecked and dangerous and adoring. Eggsy’s done this to him, made him look like this, and it’s too much, it shakes him to his core, fucks him up. He kisses Harry with trembling lips and biting teeth, hiccupping wet little sounds into his mouth and tugging at Harry’s shirt, uncoordinated and frustrated.

“Get this off,” he says, rocking his hips, rubbing his wet prick against the soft cotton over Harry’s chest as Harry presses kiss after kiss to his throat. Harry makes a grumpy sound but pulls back to strip out of his shirt and the vest underneath. He’s got shallow cuts on his side and bruises from fists on his middle. Eggsy digs his fingernails into his bare back and Harry groans, buries his face in Eggsy’s throat again and worries his teeth at Eggsy’s racing pulse.

“Harry, Harry,” Eggsy says, all he’s capable of saying, the only word he has left. Harry pulls back and settles his hand at Eggsy’s throat and Eggsy inhales sharply, feels his cock twitch and blurt pre-come where the head is rubbing on Harry’s chest. Harry smiles and it’s so fucking predatory, and then takes his hand away and feeds Eggsy three of his fingers. Eggsy sucks on them, slips his tongue between them clumsily, gets them dripping wet, blush burning his cheeks. Harry looks ravenous.

He sucks Eggsy off again while he opens him up, long slender fingers pressing deep and invasive where Eggsy’s aching and empty inside, making room, until Eggsy flies apart, clenching and coming and wailing, tears on his cheeks. After, he tucks Eggsy down into his arms, cossetting and tender, and Eggsy thinks, greedy and shameless, _Mine. Mine, mine, mine._

*

The living room doesn’t really survive the next round. They've broken a lamp and a glass vase, knocked several pictures off the walls, splintered all four legs of the surprisingly fragile coffee table under their combined weight, and knocked the sofa off its posh spindly feet, laughing into each other’s mouths as they rolled onto the floor. There’s also the half-torn curtain, the crooked hat stand, and the poor violated end table that had been inadvertently dry humped so vigorously it’d knocked a hole in the wall.

Eggsy has no idea what time it is. It’s dark outside. He’s worn the fuck out and covered in bite marks and bruises that he’s going to give Harry hell for later because he knows they’re up too high to be hidden by the collar of a shirt. His arse is sore in a way he’ll be feeling for days, hole tender and hot from abuse. The hand at his throat is firm and loving and he feels crushed under waves and waves of heat, his mouth so dry that he whimpers.

"Easy, Eggsy, darling. Are you all right?" Harry asks, soothing. How he can sound so smug and polite with his throat wrecked from cock Eggsy doesn’t know. The sound of it makes him blush hot and bright red all down his chest, embarrassed and so horny he can't see straight. He tries to swear meanly but his brain is sluggish and his tongue feels too thick. All he can do pant like a dog and keen quietly in his throat, the sound vibrating against Harry’s palm, and clutch Harry’s hips in a bruising grip and stare huge-eyed as Harry lowers himself down onto Eggsy’s cock.

Hot. It’s so hot, and too rich, like Eggsy's a pleb who snuck in, and so fucking tight. Harry lets his head fall back and sighs with pleasure. He’s not even hard, because he’s like a million years old or whatever and his one load of the night is still leaking out of Eggsy’s arse, but he’s just as flushed and turned on as he was when he was fucking Eggsy stupid earlier. He lets out a little whimper as the thickest part breaches him, and opens heavy-lidded eyes once he’s sat in the cradle of Eggsy’s pelvis, arse flush to Eggsy’s sore balls.

“There,” he says with breathless satisfaction. “That’s perfect. I’ve always liked the way this feels, being fucked open after I’ve come, the pressure and stretch. It’s almost too much. Feels fucking incredible. You’ve got such a lovely thick cock, Eggsy.”

He sounds praising, like the only reason Eggsy’s got a lovely thick cock is because Harry told him to, and he’s proud of Eggsy for following orders. Mad bastard. It’s equal parts endearing and infuriating. Harry's brow furrows with concern and he asks, tenderly “Is this all right?”

Jesus. Eggsy nods, swallows a few times. Harry’s grip on his throat loosens and falls away, broad palm soothing on Eggsy’s chest, over bruises he sucked into Eggsy’s skin. His arse clutches Eggsy’s cock jealously. Eggsy’s so hard, it feels so good, but it’s nothing compared to the look on Harry’s face, how flushed and fucking gorgeous he is. Eggsy can’t tear his eyes off him. It takes him ages to find enough voice to say, “Yes. Yeah.”

“Good,” Harry says, pleased. He takes Eggsy’s hands from his hips and leans over to brush a kiss to his mouth, pinning Eggsy’s wrists to the floor above his head. “Keep those there, please, if you would. You’re not to touch.”

“Fucking perv,” Eggsy gasps, which Harry ignores save for the small smile that curls his mouth. He starts to rock his hips, slides his hand back up to Eggsy’s neck and applies pressure until Eggsy’s vision swims, his cock jerking in the hot clutch of Harry’s arse. It’s only a split second and then Harry’s caressing his cheek, wiping a tear away, breathing harder as he starts to slowly ride Eggsy’s cock. Eggsy gasps and arches, shuddering with sensitivity and exhaustion. Harry groans and wraps a hand around his soft cock like he’s got a fucking phantom stiffy or something. Eggsy wouldn’t put it past him.

“Harry,” he croaks after a few minutes, when it gets to be too much. “Harry, _please_.”

Harry slows and then stills, giving Eggsy a break. Eggsy reaches for him and Harry tuts, catches his hands and lifts them to his mouth, kisses the palms, reverent. “Eggsy. What did I say about touching?”

Eggsy swears loudly, but puts his hands back above his head obediently.

“Good boy,” Harry murmurs, starting to move again. Eggsy soaks up Harry’s approval greedily, tilts his face up for a kiss which Harry gives him. His voice is low and rough when he says, “Beautiful. God, Eggsy, beautiful boy, look at you. You’re stunning. The things I want to do to you. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Eggsy shakes his head wordlessly, feeling raw and exposed under Harry’s eyes, pinned down and taken apart. Harry wraps his hand proprietarily around Eggsy’s neck again, secure, grounding. He’s riding Eggsy in earnest, now, somehow looking dignified and gentlemanly even as he bounces on Eggsy’s cock. Eggsy would like to think he looks the same, but he’s pretty sure his tongue is hanging out of his head and he’s lost the motor skills to do anything about it.

“The first time I saw you in uniform. You came to see me in hospital and the way you looked, like the worst temptation, your hair combed, wearing the suit I had made for you, holding that fucking umbrella, done up like me…”

Eggsy snorts. “Yeah, ’cos I know what you like, you fucking narcissist."

Harry smiles like a shark, titillated and smug, arse clenching tightly around Eggsy’s cock. Eggsy grunts, shudders. He’s so sore, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s going to come. He almost balks – it’s too much, it already hurts – but that just makes the feeling low in his belly blossom out more urgently. He doesn’t realize he’s pressing up into Harry’s hands on his throat, holding his breath until tears well up in his eyes. He exhales with a sob that feels like it’s been punched out of him, gets one of his feet flat on the floor and starts to meet Harry’s thrusts, starts to fuck him. Harry jolts in surprise, opens his eyes and finds Eggsy’s. They widen with dawning realization.

“Fuck,” he says. “You gorgeous creature. You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

Eggsy tries to shake his head and nod at the same time, and puts his hand over his face again, sinking his teeth into the heel. He couldn’t stop it now if he tried, keeps fucking up into Harry with sharp little rabbity thrusts. He whines when Harry tugs his hand away, his face hot.

Harry kisses him, sort of, pants against his mouth. He says, “Eggsy, sweetheart. Such a ruin for me, my darling boy,” and Eggsy comes so hard it feels like his balls are trying to retreat into his body.

*

He lets Harry clean him up and take him to bed, stupid from orgasm and only half-conscious. When Harry joins him Eggsy rolls on top of him. He's too heavy by far, but Harry doesn't complain. He strokes Eggsy's hair in a weighty silence, and after a while he says, "Eggsy, I feel it prudent to warn you that I am not always an easy man to be in a relationship with." He pauses and Eggsy can just imagine him pursing his lips disapprovingly. "I don't let go easily, and I've been told that I have certain quirks."

"Quirks," Eggsy deadpans. 

Harry clears his throat. "Yes, quirks. Or rather, eccentricities. Ones that may not be ideal in a partner."

Eggsy thinks of Harry's house, full of peculiar knickknacks, every wall cramped with oil paintings of solemn looking dogs and pointless landscapes that must be good on a technical level to have met Harry's lofty standards but are so ugly that Eggsy wouldn't have paid a quid for them even if he was a millionaire. He don't comment on those, or the taxidermied rodents on shelves, the butterflies pinned around the stuffed dog in the loo, the framed bugs in the hall upstairs with little handwritten-by-Harry notes naming their parts, and the meticulously aligned shrine to himself that Harry's made of his office.

He lifts his head and gives Harry an incredulous look. "You think I don't already know you's a fucking weirdo, Harry?"

"Well," Harry says. He blinks up at Eggsy with his big Bambi eyes, the kind he always gets after he fucks someone up and is trying to appear unassuming and kindly. This time the one he's fucked up is Eggsy, and it was everything Eggsy'd hoped it would be. If it was physically possible for him to get hard again, he would be, just thinking about it. He likes that Harry wants to take him to pieces and figure out how he works, label all his parts. He likes that all of Harry's sometimes dangerous attention will be all his, now. He likes that Harry wants to keep him.

"Well," Harry repeats, softer, wondering. Eggsy grins and smacks a sloppy kiss to his cheek, settles back in with his head tucked under Harry's chin. Harry doesn't say anything else, but eventually his fingers go back to carding through Eggsy's hair, and then further down, to press against the tender mark he bit into Eggsy's neck and make it ache.

the end


End file.
